An Extremely Short Rest
by Nolitari
Summary: What really happened in 'The Hobbit' during Thorin and Company's stay in Rivendell? Here we find out why Bilbo wanted to go back. And we also find out who composed that rediculous song they sang. ON HOLD.
1. Proluge: Rose Oil

**An Extremely Short Rest**

_Author's Notes: This is what happens in Rivendell during the Hobbit, since we don't know much of what happened. You can label this as alternate universe, I guess. I also take free reign to make Rivendell as silly as possible. (If you read the song they sang, you'll understand.) Also, this is partially written for Erestor's Schizophrenic!Glorfindel Challenge. Okay, so this story is definantly AU. The song belongs to Mr. Tolkien, The Hobbit, page 46 (at least, in the edition I have).  
This was a challenge to find a place to put it. 1) They don't have a section for The Hobbit, 2) it's the prelude for goodness sakes, so why not put it in Lord of the Rings?  
Since I keep dedicating my stories to people I know and you don't, this one goes to Zach. Maybe those little people on our shoulders mean we have more mental issues than we thought...  
_

Summary: What really happened in 'The Hobbit' during Thorin and Company's stay in Rivendell? Here we find out why Bilbo wanted to go back. (And we also find out who composed that rediculous song they sang)

**Disclaimer: Half of this idea was mine, but the crazy Glorfindel is Erestor's idea. I am merely borrowing it...hey, it WAS a challenge, so the pitchforks and torches aren't necessary. Plus, everyone has to write about a nutso Glorfy. He is the perfect victim for that. I just was never imaginitive enough to think of a schizophrenic elf. (Although I should have, Lindele keeps calling me that.) Maybe one that had an obsession for ice cream...? Oh. I forgot. About all of this belongs to Tolkien. Drat, why couldn't I have written it? And why is this disclaimer so long? Should I feed it to the Nazgul to shorten it? I'm afraid with every click of the keys on this stupid keyboard it gets longer. Alright! I'm putting a sock in it. **

o-o-o-o-o

Prologue

o-o-o

It was the beginning of a peaceful night in Rivendell.

Or, as peaceful as Rivendell could get at dusk.

Yes, if you were a traveler to the valley (or if you knew it was there at all) you would think that it was a haven by all the waterfalls, the smell of the trees, or the flowers that grew on the side of the road.

But if you looked beyond the oriental follies -- and into the residents, you would find out why the absurd things always happened here, in Imladris.

Once you stepped foot into the huge house, you would probably smell the wonderful aromas that drifted down the halls from the kitchen.

And that was where Thorin and Company was headed (to Rivendell, not the kitchens. Although I am sure they would head there as soon as they arrived). The company decended down the path that zigged and zagged, Bilbo dozing off here and there. (I told you the scent of the trees was evident.)

Meanwhile, in a tree further down the road, two twins were in heated discussion - more like arguing - over how to give the visitors a heartattack more quickly. Well, perhaps they didn't mean to give them a heartattack, but they meant to scare the travelers as best as they could.

"I say we jump out of the trees and start singing a song." Elrohir, the younger of the twins, said.

"Nay! That is so boring! You could at least think of something more original." The older twin, Elladan, said with a huff.

"We're going to do it rather you like it or not."

"Elrohir?"

"Yes?"

"You smell like roses. Have you been going through Arwen's scented oils?"

"No! I have not! And you are going off topic! Oh --" Elrohir poked his head out of the branches. "Now! They're coming!"

_"O! What are you doing, _

_And where are you going?_

_Your ponies need shoeing!_

_The river is flowing! _

_O! tra-la-la-lally_

_here down in the valley!"_

The twins, and a few other elves that were with them at the time, broke out in that rediculous song from the trees. Why couldn't they have dropped one of Glorfindel's socks on one of the not-so-important dwarves? Elladan mused on that as he sang.

Ah, oh well. After all, he _was_ having a good time.

But little did Elladan know, the good, the crazy, the memorable times were just about to start.

To Be Continued...

o-o-o-o-o

_Additional Notes: Excuse me if the twins acted a little young for their age. But this is the Hobbit, and the elves were...slightly insane. _

_And do you remember when Bilbo thought, "Hmmm! it smells like elves!" in chapter three of the Hobbit? Well, I thought the rose scented oil may be the reason for that. Otherwise, what do elves smell like? _

_I promise the next chapter will be much, much better. _

_Also, my apolgies: This chapter is half authors notes. Bless you if you actually read them. And I know I've gotten alot of things published lately. You all are probably sick of seeing my pen name. _

_Worry not. I saved the story I just deleted onto a big, fat document. _

_**Read & Review! Otherwise...I'll...throw my extremely sharp pencils at you!**_

o-o-o


	2. Chapter one: Arrivals

**An Extremely Short Rest**

Author's Notes: My computer is dead. Meaning I've lost everything. Including this chapter – so I had to rewrite it. I'm not entirely sure if this is my best chapter… but please, do review. And then you can tell me how much I need to rewrite it.

o-o-o-o-o

The morning before the Company's arrival

o-o-o

Ear piercing notes on Lindir's harp made a very unhappy Elf abruptly wake up from peaceful slumber. This was not the way he had planned to wake up, much less on a Saturday.

The said Elf groaned and threw the sheets back, deciding he might as well get up anyway and go snip Lindir's harp strings.

Why does he insist on playing that thing so early? I swear, I will snap his harp in two if he does it again. Ah, Glorfindel, grab a hold of yourself. Don't break it; just hide it…where no one will find it. Which would be at the bottom of the Brunien…

Glorfindel groaned and pulled on a simple outfit – he felt much too lazy to brush or braid his hair. Looking at his reflection dissatisfied, he stumbled out of the room and headed towards to where the unbearable music was coming from.

Stumbling down one of the many corridors, the golden haired Elf came upon someone that he hadn't seen for a long time.

"Erestor!" He said with glee. "I haven't seen you in years! Where have you been?"

"I know." This 'Erestor' replied; bending over to pick up a few of the documents he had dropped. "I have been away on some other matters, but obviously they have brought me back to Imladris."

Glorfindel nodded. "There seems to be a lot going on around here lately. Ah! Do you have a room? Need I tell Elrond that you need one? If there's one thing that never runs out here, it's space."

With a look of worry, Erestor vigorously shook his head. "No! There's no need – I will only be here for a day or so. No need to mention anything." He shook his head and took a step. "I will see you later, perhaps." Letting his shoulder sag, Erestor walked around the corner and went out of sight.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow in confusion for a moment, and then remembered what he had climbed out of his warm bed for.

Ah. Yes. I have to go strangle a young Elf.

This time, the half-asleep Balrog slayer got to his target. But it wasn't exactly what he was expecting.

"Estel?" said he in surprise. "What are you doing? Where is Lindir? Why are you using his instruments? Why did you wake me up at such an early hour?"

Ten-year-old Estel blinked a few times while soaking in everything that Glorfindel had just said. "Well," the boy began slowly. "Lindir and I are trying to think something up, since Elrohir asked us to, so he and Elladan can scare the incoming travelers with a song (how they will do that, I have no idea). And Lindir is right over there, trying to get his hair untangled from his cat's claw." – Estel pointed at the dark-haired figure that was wrestling an innocent looking feline – "And I am using his harp because he said I could, and I didn't wake you up at an early hour, you woke up at a late hour. It's nearly eleven." Estel panted after speaking so fast.

Nearly eleven? He has to be jesting! I have never slept in that late. Ssomething must be critically wrong with me…

Shaking his head, Glorfindel turned around on his heel. "Just… tone it down a bit." said Glorfindel, walking out of Lindir's bedchambers.

Estel's face twisted into a look of confusion. "How am I supposed to make a harp be quiet?" He shouted after Glorfindel's retreating back.

"Here's a tip! Quit playing it!"

o-o-o-o-o

Meanwhile, in the kitchens of Imladris, chaos had broken loose. The cook had enlisted the help of her unwilling friends to prepare a meal for the dwarves and a hobbit.

I can't imagine how much food I will have to prepare – goodness me! Is that the bread I smell burning? NO! It's my pies!

The cook, who was known as Tari, ran over to the ovens and pulled out the charred pastries. "Just great!" she said, banging the pan down on the countertop. "I'll have to make a whole other batch."

A few of the other kitchen Elves froze as they witnessed one of Tari's many outbursts. So she didn't have the best temper, but she could get the job done quite magnificently -- if didn't turn into a pan of smoldering ashes, that is.

This will be a long afternoon…Tari groaned an started to prepare some more dough.

o-o-o-o-o

The visitors have arrived. Elladan and I, and a few others have greeted them. I think they enjoyed Lindir and Estel's little song that they wrote. I know they had a great time thinking that up this morning. Estel never showed any interest in music and such – just the outdoors and weapons. Which can be a good thing, I suppose. Hopefully Lindir can help spark an interest.

The meal went well – nothing was raw inside or stale, or burned. Surprisingly hobbits have quite large stomachs for their size. He ate more than my brother and I combined. And sometimes we can eat quite a lot.

Oh! I also got another bottle of Arwen's scented oils and a bar or her soap. She isn't here at the moment, I doubt she'll notice. But I know Elladan will. I must hide them in Glorfindel's room and blame him.

Speaking of that golden headed Elf, I spotted him speaking to someone in the hallway.

But I didn't see the being he was speaking to.

He is starting to worry me now.

Perhaps I should tell Ada this…

o-o-o-o-o


End file.
